


Catharsis

by MissDrarryDawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Other, hopefulending, hurtcomfort, rewrittensectumseptrascene, thebathroomscene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21536500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDrarryDawn/pseuds/MissDrarryDawn
Summary: Harry finds Malfoy in the girl's bathroom, finds him crying. It opens a slew of realizations and emotions deep within Harry, and for the first time, Harry understands.//Completed//Word count: 1.4k
Relationships: Drarry - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 124





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: There are some upsetting themes in this story.

Harry stood frozen. He felt denuded of all of his preconceived notions and expectations of the boy standing a few feet in front of him, bent over a sink in the girl's bathroom, sobbing brokenly. He felt...so _stupid._ Harry couldn't even recognize why, he just felt _stupid_ , as he stood there watching Malfoy cry. Perhaps it was because he'd been _so_ wrong about everything. It wasn't haughtiness that carried in Malfoy's step, it wasn't pride that lay in his slate gray eyes. No, it was _fear._ And Harry only saw that now. He only _let_ himself see it now. Because he had no other choice _but_ to see. There was no excuse anymore. Malfoy was right there, gasping as he shuddered, and suddenly, that's _all_ Harry could see. Just another scared boy, not so unlike himself. Suddenly, Harry felt guilty. For all the assumptions clouding his mind over years, for all the hurt that wedged a rift ever so deep between the two of them. 

Malfoy lifted his eyes to the mirror, gasping when he realized he wasn't alone. He whipped around, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Harry couldn't speak. He was still frozen. Only when Malfoy shot an Unforgivable at him, did Harry's body snap out of it, and moved on instinct, dodging the Torture curse. Somewhere distantly, his mind screamed at him to reach for his wand, to defend himself, but he didn't. Malfoy wasn't a threat. He wasn't anything Harry needed to defend himself from. He was something that needed defending. Harry breathed heavily with that realization. He lifted his eyes to Malfoy, whose jaw was knotted in a clench, eyes narrowed into slits at Harry, as he made to stride past him. To get away. And Harry couldn't let that happen, he just..he _couldn't_ let Malfoy leave now. 

Just as the blonde had shoved past him, Harry found his lost voice:

"You're scared."

It's all he could think to say. The only thought whirring through his mind. The only thing Harry was aware of in the moment, that, and his own erratic heartbeat. Malfoy had stilled in his step, freezing much like Harry had. Harry slowly turned to face Malfoy's back, and he waited. He couldn't say anything else, his throat was closed as he fleetingly considered what Malfoy might do now. 

Something seemed to snap inside him. 

He whirled around, face contorted into an expression of such bitter anguish, fists clenched by his side as he snarled, his voice broken:

"Stating the fucking _obvious_ are you? Did you really, _even for a second_ , think I ever wanted this? _Any_ of this? Did you _really_ think I wanted innocent children to _die_? And for _what?_ Because they couldn't turn a teacup into a butterfly? Did you ever think I wanted _this_ marring my skin?!" 

His voice was rising, and he tugged his sleeve up harshly, baring the Dark Mark at Harry, whose heart stopped at the sight of it. It writhed and twitched on Malfoy's pale skin, the edges blending out into gray. It stood in stark contrast to his deathly pale skin, and Harry _ached_ as he finally _understood_ that it hadn't been a choice. That it had _never_ been a choice. It wasn't an _if,_ it was a _must._

"Branded like bloody cattle to do the bidding of a lunatic! To make me a fucking _murderer! No, I didn't._ Not _once_ in my life did I wish for this shit. Not _once_ did I want to live in fear he'll murder my _mother_ unless I bend to his will. That my father will _never_ be proud of me unless I am as he pleases me to be. _Never._ Yes, I'm bloody _scared_ , I'm fucking _terrified_. Every goddamn day of my life!" 

Malfoy was breathing heavily, his arms limp by his sides. His eyes burned with unshed tears, burned with something jagged and ugly that had only now surfaced. Harry didn't know what to do about the weight of those words. He didn't know what to make of the pit in his stomach the admission opened. All he knew, was that he'd been a bloody blind fool. And there, in that bathroom, the poison that had flown between them didn't matter. Harry finally _saw_ Malfoy for what he was. And it _hurt._ It fucking _hurt_ seeing it. Watching it unravel before him. He felt as if it would be that alone that would damn him to the ground. Harry couldn't gain reign over his limbs, as they carried him closer to Malfoy, as they wrapped around Malfoy, holding him close, tight, enveloping him in a hug that Harry had never believed himself capable of bestowing upon the other boy. Even that didn't loosen his hold. What he'd thought and believed before didn't matter, as it had come to be obvious now. All there was to consider was what he'd learned then. He felt a surge of tension spike through Malfoy's muscles when he realized he'd been pulled into an embrace, but Harry didn't let go still. He found he couldn't, it felt wrong to just leave Malfoy like this, so scraped raw. 

A sob broke the heavy silence, and then Malfoy sagged against Harry completely, starting to weep again into the crook of Harry's neck. The weight almost startled Harry but he closed his arms around him tighter, and let him cry. Harry felt Malfoy's tears soak into his skin, his clothes, but he couldn't find it in himself to care of that. He was trapped in a catharsis with Malfoy, felt cocooned away by it. Malfoy cried for a long time, leaning bodily into Harry, seemingly unable to stop the flow once the dam broke. Harry slowly lowered them to their knees on their floor, the blonde shuffling closer on his knees, still buried against Harry, choking on his sobs while they wracked him. Harry waited, not a word on his tongue, or a thought in his mind, he held on and waited for the calm to come. 

Harry had always been dubbed a hero. Well, if he was going to be a hero, then he'd be a hero to _everyone_ , not just those few that flocked to him. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. There comes a time a hero must make a choice, and he was making his now, here. He felt _chosen_ then, for the first time felt truly chosen by someone. Harry felt as if Malfoy had chosen him by allowing himself to be held by Harry. And for the first time, it felt so _important_ not to let him down. Usually, Harry didn't have it in him to care about disappointing the expectations of those who knew little of him other than his name. This though, felt important above all else. Because Malfoy _did_ know Harry, in a twisted way, he _knew_ , he knew what it's like to be marked, to have a painted mirror of yourself everyone expected you to live up to. How Harry hated that, yet he realized now he fell into the _exact_ same trap, a pang jabbing at him.

It took a long time for Malfoy to calm. A long time for his sobs to cease, his shaking to diminish. He breathed evenly against Harry, tucked away into him still. Neither pulled away. Harry didn't move his arms from around the other, and Malfoy didn't make to push away from Harry either. They sat there, in a soothing silence, sharing breath and the quiet humility of comfort. Harry wished to show he finally _understood_ , that he no longer clung to his ill formed cerebrations of before this. 

"I'm scared too. I understand." Harry pushed his croaky voice out into the cold chill of the bathroom. It was then that Malfoy sat up, pushing away from Harry, his face spotted and blotchy, eyes grayer than Harry had ever seen them before. _Clearer_ than Harry had ever seen them before. Though his cheeks were marred by the tear streaks curving down them, and his eyes were rimmed red, there was a sag to his sharp cheekbones, a distinct loss of tension to his lips. _Relief_ , Harry realized. Slowly, as if approaching a wild beast, Harry placed a palm over Malfoy's left forearm, pressing his hand flat against the Dark Mark. Malfoy's gray eyes widened the least bit, they searched Harry's face the same way Harry's searched his. Finally, their gazes locked and Harry's breath caught for just a moment. His eyes looked so much different now that they were clear of hidden, repressed pains and regrets. It wasn't a sight Harry was used to. It was a sight he _wanted_ to get used to. Above all else, he recognized that one wish, and he firmly decided to heed it through.

Harry smiles.

Draco smiles back.

~

 _Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to rewrite the Sectumseptra scene forever, since I've always felt like it had so much potential that JK didn't use. This is my take on it, how I imagine it could have played out.
> 
> Find more on my [Tumblr](https://missdrarrydawn.tumblr.com/)


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